In Safe Hands
by FoolishWishmaker
Summary: Snape rescues Harry from the Dursleys. Because every author must write one of these. A routine check of the wards at the Dursleys residence turns into something not routine at all. Totally AU. Pre-Hogwarts. Slash RL/SB. Complete for now.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter was a skinny three-year-old with a mop of unruly black hair. Aside from an unsightly scar on his forehead, his only distinguishing feature was the brightness of his green eyes.

At the moment, the boy was sitting by the window in the front room of a spotless and orderly house at Number 4, which was just like any other house on Privet Drive, right down to the precisely trimmed lawn.

The boy had been alone all afternoon, his Aunt and cousin having gone out. He didn't mind, though. His cousin, who was named Dudley, was twice his size and a bit of a bully. That morning he had amused himself by tracking mud in from the garden to muck up the kitchen floor as Harry mopped it. Aunt hadn't noticed, but had noticed that the job wasn't finished, and Harry had gone without lunch.

He had searched through the cupboards (those he could reach) and eaten a few of the crusts Aunt saved for when she and Dudley fed the ducks at the park. He was still hungry, but not achingly so.

Although his head didn't reach over the windowsill, the boy was quite amused by the view of a blossoming tree and a patch of startlingly blue summer sky complete with a cloud that looked a bit like a bunny.

The glass dulled the sounds, but the boy heard an occasional car go by. He was listening for the sound of Uncle's car, because if Uncle came home before Aunt and Dudley did, Harry would have to hide in his cupboard and be very still, like a mouse.

"You again?"

Harry's ears perked up. It was the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, whom he sometimes heard when Aunt, Uncle, and Dudley were not home. Once he had even seen the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, and he had looked like a Very-Severe-Looking-Man, with a black coat with shiny buttons and black boots with shiny buckles.

"Yes, Severus."

He even had a Very-Severe-Name.

"They are not at home."

"I can see that. May I wait with you?"

Harry liked the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man almost as much as he liked the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. He couldn't like him just as very much because, for one thing, he had never seen the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man, and so could not be sure that he was as Soft-Looking as he was Soft-Sounding. Besides that, the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man hardly ever came, while the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man had come, oh, at least as many times as Harry had fingers.

"If you insist."

Harry did not hear anything for a long time, and he grew worried that they might have gone away.

"I was hoping..."

"No."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man was very good at saying 'No.' He was even better than Aunt. Harry knew if the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man said 'No,' to him, he would obey even quicker than he obeyed Aunt... though perhaps not as quickly as he obeyed Uncle.

"I haven't seen the child in two years, Severus. He's my best friend's son. It can't hurt..."

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man was always hoping to see a child. Harry often wondered who the child was.

"Unless the Muggles raised hell, you mean."

Harry didn't know who the Muggles were or which house they lived in, but the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man and the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man spoke about them a lot, and they sounded not too unlike Aunt and Uncle.

"Oh, them! They needn't even know about it. Just let me slip in and --"

"No."

Harry sighed with the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man. He felt very sad that the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man wouldn't see the child.

"Have you seen him, at least? Arabella's reports are so worrying..."

"I haven't seen him. I make sure the wards are still in place, and I leave. I have no other business here, and I have important work waiting for my return."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man was always talking about his Very-Important-Work, so Harry thought he might work with Uncle.

"But you aren't worried?"

"Worried? Why should I be? Dumbledore is satisfied."

"Well I'm NOT!" said the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man, who didn't sound very soft just then.

"Take it up with him, then. I won't compromise the wards by letting all and sundry traipse through whenever they please."

"ONCE, Severus. Just ONCE."

"I told you, no."

"If I... I'll let you test your potion on me."

Harry thought the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man sounded like a Very-Anxious-Sounding-Man.

"Severus?"

"If I let you do this -- and this being a big 'if' -- it happens on my terms."

"Of course."

"We go in at night, you see the boy, and we get out before anyone wakes."

"Fine."

"Come back at midnight. That's my last round."

"Thank you, Severus."

And then the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man and the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man did not say any more, but Harry heard two loud pops, like Uncle's old car used to make sometimes, and then it _was_ Uncle's car screeching to a halt in the drive, so he dove for cover in the cupboard under the stairs, forgetting most everything he'd overheard.

* * *

Harry rocked back and forth, unable to settle on the lumpy mattress and fall asleep. He was very hungry, and his bottom hurt an awful lot.

It was very, very late at night, and there was no light. His cousin Dudley had told him what happens to little boys who sleep alone with no light on. He knew that Dudley woke up at night sometimes, because he could hear him howling for Aunt. He always heard Aunt going into Dudley's bedroom after that. She never did that if Harry cried at night. He thought maybe she couldn't hear him all the way down here in the cupboard, but he never tried to howl like Dudley, because then Uncle might hear him. Uncle didn't like it when Harry made too much noise.

Uncle didn't like it when Harry dropped things, either, and Harry had done that while washing the dishes after supper that night. That was why Harry's bottom hurt, and why he was hungry, and why he couldn't fall asleep. That and the monsters who eat children who sleep alone with no light on.

"Done. You can step through."

Harry's eyes opened wider in spite of there being nothing to see in the pitch blackness of the cupboard. What was the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man doing _inside_ Aunt and Uncle's house? He had never come inside before.

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man lit a lamp.

"You can wait here if you'd rather."

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man was in the house too!

"Do you take me for a fool? Stay behind me, Lupin. Let's get this ridiculous excursion over with."

Harry pressed his cheek against the dirty floor and through the strip of light under the door he saw shadows passing by the cupboard.

"Are you sure you know where he sleeps?"

"No, but there are only two bedrooms besides the master suite. The Muggles' boy looks like an over-inflated beach ball, so I rather doubt you'll mistake the two."

Harry was confused. _Dudley_ was the one who looked a bit like a beach ball, and there was no Muggle family living at Aunt and Uncle's house, or any other little boys besides Dudley and Harry.

"Just so we're clear, Lupin. We go in, you have your look, and we're out of here."

"I've already given you my word, Severus."

Their voices faded away as the stairs above Harry's head creaked and flakes of plaster came raining down on him.

Very confused and now a little frightened, Harry huddled under the only thin blanket he had, hunched down in a corner of the cupboard where the shelves were particularly low.

They came back down the stairs presently, having not found what they were looking for, of course.

Harry pressed hard against the wall and pretended he was invisible. Sometimes that worked with Aunt. Once or twice it had even worked with Uncle.

"I don't understand it. Is there another room?"

"No," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, who sounded very severe indeed just then.

"Could they have sent him to stay somewhere else? Have they ever done that before?"

"Of course not; don't be ridiculous. He should be here."

"But...!"

"Oh, be silent and let me handle this. We're standing here like a pair of Muggles. _Point me, Harry __Potter!_"

The sound of his own name startled Harry, but he was too frightened to move. Still as a statue -- like the little stone cupid at the park that Dudley liked to kick -- he stared at the strip of light under the door, which had suddenly brightened.

"Look, Severus, there's a door."

"That's just a cupboard. Let's go around, through the dining room. The brat may have fallen asleep on a divan somewhere."

The light dimmed, and Harry held his breath -- like the time Dudley had pushed him into the swimming pool, even though Harry couldn't swim very well -- as they walked past the cupboard door.

"Wait," said the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man. "What's this?"

To Harry's horror, the shutter over the grate in the middle of the cupboard door was tugged open. A grid of light was thrown against the wall and the shelves with the jars and tins.

"Just a cupboard," the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man said again, impatiently. "Come --"

But the door handle was tugged hard, though the door didn't open, being locked.

"It's locked! Severus, why is it locked?"

"How should I know?" the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man said in a voice that was very short-tempered. "Here -- _Alohomora!_"

The door handle was tugged again, and then again, but the door still didn't open.

"It didn't -- hold on, I see something -- there's a latch on this side. Severus, why is there a la-- Severus, what _is_ this?"

Then Harry heard the most awful sound he knew. It was the _clink_-_clink_ of metal against metal, and the rasp of leather against wallpaper. It was the sound of Uncle's belt being taken down from its peg.

"What --" the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man cleared his throat; he had sounded a little choked. "What does it look like, Lupin?"

"That's -- oh my God -- get the light over here -- is that blood on it?"

"Yes," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, who didn't sound severe at all. In fact, Harry had barely heard him.

And the very next thing Harry heard was the sound of the latch being drawn before the cupboard door was thrown wide open.

Blinded by the sudden light, Harry somehow remembered to duck his head, burying his face in the blanket. It was very hard to keep pretending to be invisible, but he knew he had to. He was quite sure that the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man could hit just as hard as Uncle -- or at least almost as hard.

Either the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man or the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man was breathing very hard and fast, like Uncle after chasing Harry up the stairs.

"I don't see anything -- I -- there's... is that a mattress? They can't possible be --"

"Be quiet, Lupin. I see him."

Harry's heart thudded into his empty stomach. Pretending to be invisible didn't work any better on the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man than it did on Uncle.

"Where --?"

"In the corner, under a filthy blanket."

Harry's fingers clutched the tattered blanket tighter. He knew it was a little dirty and had a few holes, but sometimes he thought he could still smell Mummy on it if he closed his eyes and tried hard enough.

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man and the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man stopped speaking, and Harry knew it meant that at any moment now he would be snatched up and dragged out of the cupboard -- maybe by his hair like Aunt sometimes did, or by his arm like Uncle usually did.

He whimpered.

That was a very bad thing to do, he knew, but stuffing his fist into his mouth was too late to muffle the sound.

"Harry? Harrykins? Look up here Harry-darling..."

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man was sounding the softest Harry had ever heard him sound.

"Come on Harry, baby, give me your hand and I'll help you out of there."

Harry wasn't going to do something so silly as give the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man his hand, but the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man's hand found his anyway.

Harry looked up finally, but he still couldn't see anything except a very bright light and two dark shapes crowding the doorway.

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man tugged on his hand, and Harry reluctantly crawled out of his hiding place.

Just as he feared, he was snatched up, his head reeling from the sudden motion, and then -- of all things to happen! -- crushed against the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man's very soft and fuzzy jumper.

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man babbled nonsense into Harry's ear, of which Harry caught only '_poor darling_' and '_those vicious beasts_' -- he must have meant Aunt Marge's dogs -- and '_take you away_'.

"Take him away where, precisely?"

Harry tried to turn to see where the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man was, but the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man was holding the back of his head too tightly.

"What do you mean, where? Wait till Albus hears about this...!"

"Dumbledore will send him right back here, Lupin," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man in a very low voice. "And you will never get this close again."

"What do you mean he'll send him back here? DO YOU SEE WHAT THOSE MONSTERS DID TO HIM?!"

Monsters. Dudley was right. There _were_ monsters who did terrible things to little boys who didn't have a Mummy.

He couldn't help it, and started to cry.

"Shut it, Lupin! That spell's not going to keep the Muggles asleep with the two of you howling your heads off down here!"

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man patted Harry's back, which hurt a lot. Harry bit his lip and didn't cry anymore. He knew better than that, anyway. He'd only forgotten for a minute because of the monsters.

"Look, Severus, I'm walking out of here, and I'm taking Harry with me. You're going to have to hex me if you think you're going to stop me."

There was a silence. Harry was a little afraid for the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man, because he didn't think it was a good idea to argue with the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man when he sounded so very severe.

"I didn't suggest leaving him."

"That's what it sounded like to me!"

"Then you're not listening. If you take him out of here, Dumbledore will know about it, and he will put an end to it. We need a plan."

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man's chest rose up and down very fast, like he had been running. "Then you damn well better come up with one, Severus!"

"Let me think, damn you!"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man thought for a very long time.

"All right. All right. Look, the next two checks are by Vance, and she won't come too close. I can fool the wards for that long. We can take him out, and Dumbledore doesn't have to know about it until we've thought of a real plan."

"What about the Muggles?"

"I'll put a spell on the cupboard door. Any time they think of the boy and come looking for him, they'll forget what they were looking for."

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man took a very deep breath.

"Do it and let's get out of here."

The cupboard door was shut and locked. The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man muttered some words Harry didn't quite hear.

They were moving, but the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man didn't let Harry raise his head to see where they were going.

"Wait until I give the word."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man muttered many, many words.

"Go. Walk straight to that hedge and stop."

Harry knew they had walked out of the house because a cold wind nipped at the bare skin on his arms, neck, and legs.

"Do you think he'll be all right if we Apparate?"

"You're asking me?" said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. "I've certainly never Apparated with a child."

"I think we must risk it. I don't see how else we'll -- where are we going, Severus, in any case?"

"Spinner's End. Do you know it well enough?"

"I... No, not well enough. I think... maybe... you had better take Harry."

"What --? No, we'll both hold on to him, and you take my arm besides."

Harry felt another hand grasp his leg.

"Let's do it. On three. One... two --"

Harry did not hear the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man get to three. The last thing he felt was a terrible squeezing, like one of Dudley's hugs but worse; much, much, worse. Then he felt nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry came awake very slowly. His eyelids seemed to be stuck shut, and it took a few tries to get his eyes open.

The man who was so close that Harry could have reached out and touched him was not the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, and so he had to be the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man.

He had light brown hair and dark spots under his eyes like Harry sometimes had after he'd misbehaved. He seemed to be asleep right there in the armchair.

Harry raised his head and looked around, which was not a good thing to do at all, because his eyes fell upon the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, whose eyes were on Harry.

"Lupin," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man.

That made the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man jump and open his eyes very quickly.

"Wha-- What?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man gave him a very severe look. "Boy's awake."

"Oh!" The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man's head whipped around in Harry's direction. "Oh, Harry... Harrykins... I was starting to worry..." And he reached for Harry's face.

Harry ducked his head. Sometimes that worked with Uncle, because Uncle wasn't very fast.

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man's hand jerked back.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I wasn't going to hit you."

Harry opened one eye to peer at him.

"I have some medicine for you to take." He held out a skinny glass jar with a blue fizzy drink inside. "It's to make you feel better."

Harry eyed it warily. The only medicine Aunt had ever given him had made his stomach burn, and made him soil himself over and over all night.

"Open your mouth -- that's a good boy."

Harry had opened his mouth as soon as the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man told him to, and the fizzy drink was poured right in. It tasted bitter on his tongue, but he swallowed it because he knew the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man would be angry if he spat it out.

It didn't burn.

"Now, Harry, my name is... it's Moony. That's what you used to call me. Can you say that? Moony?"

"Moo," Harry said obediently.

"That's right," the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man-Whose-Name-Was-Moony said with a very forced sort of smile. "Moony."

He turned toward the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, the smile slipping off his face.

"He was so bright, Severus. Talking in sentences already the last time I saw him. I can hardly believe it's the same child."

He turned back to Harry.

"I have some toys for you, sweetie. Why don't we put you down here on the rug...?"

Harry stiffened, but Moony put him down straight away, and not on the cold floor, either.

"Here are some blocks -- you used to love playing with blocks -- and a plush doggie."

Harry looked at the toys, but didn't touch them. Looking was all right. Dudley didn't mind when he looked, usually.

"Go ahead," said Moony, and he put the toy dog right into Harry's lap before getting to his feet. "This is breaking my heart, Severus. I can't stand it. I feel like I'm going to scream."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man frowned at Moony, but said nothing.

"What are we going to do? What _can_ we do?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man sighed. "I know what we can't do." He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I don't know, Lupin. I need time to think."

"But we're safe here? You said that, didn't you? It's warded?"

"Are you suggesting we stay locked up here for the next thirteen years, Lupin? Somehow I don't think that will work out."

"I just meant... Albus can't just come in and take Harry. Can he?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man shrugged. "If he wants him, I don't think even the Fidelius would help. Look, just keep the boy occupied. I'll have this potion ready in an hour and I'll be able to think clearer then."

Moony kneeled down in front of Harry again.

"All right, Harry. Let's see what we can build with these, shall we?"

He took a wooden block and put it down between them.

"Your turn."

Harry stared at the solitary block sitting on the rug in front of him.

"Here, darling," said Moony, pushing another block into Harry's hand. "Now, put it right next to mine."

Harry put the block down very quickly.

"Good! Good... now how about that yellow one?"

Harry put another block next to the other two.

"Good," said Moony, his forced smile back on his face. "Very good, Harry."

"Yes, if you're color blind."

"Shut up, Severus. Now, Harry, how about one more...?"

Harry kept adding blocks to the pile, which seemed to make Moony happy.

"I knew your Mummy, you know."

Harry looked up, startled. Mummy? Moony knew his Mummy?

"Yes," Moony said, nodding his head. "Yes, Harry, I knew her. She was my friend. Your Dad, too."

Moony knew Mummy _and_ Dad? Maybe he knew where they were!

"Mummy?" Harry said, the old word slipping from his lips. "Mummy?"

"Yes," Moony said, smiling. "Mummy loved you very much, Harry."

Harry thought this over. He remembered something. Maybe Moony didn't know.

"Mummy. Bad man. Bad light."

Moony jumped, his eyes opening wide and blinking rapidly.

"What? Say that again, Harry. What bad light? What bad man? Severus -- he can't possibly --!"

Harry concentrated, but he didn't know the words to explain what he had seen. Mummy running. Mummy screaming. Bad light. Bad man. Mummy falling down. Bad man laughing. Bad light again.

"Mummy fall down," he said finally. "Bad man. Bad light."

He picked up a block and put it next to Moony's knee.

"Green," said Moony faintly. "Bad light that was green. He does remember. How is that even possible?"

"Bad man," Harry continued. "Bad light. Owie." He patted his forehead, because that was where his owie had been. "Unkie Petuh."

"WHAT?!" said Moony, his face suddenly as white as one of Aunt's hankies. "Oh, no, Harry, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to frighten you. Moony didn't mean to yell."

Harry swallowed. He had made Moony angry. When Moony was angry he did not sound like a Very-Soft-Sounding-Man at all.

"Harry darling," said Moony in his very softest voice, "tell me about Uncle Peter. Please."

Harry thought this over.

"Bad light. Owie. Unkie Petuh run, run, run."

He stopped, not knowing how to explain and knowing he wasn't doing a good job at all... and then he saw it.

"Unkie Petah," he said, placing the block next to Moony's knee.

"Oh God," whispered Moony.

And then he did a very strange thing. Hiding his face in his hands, he began to sob like Dudley had done once when his favorite toy had been chewed up by Aunt Marge's dogs.

"Lupin? Lupin!" said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, coming from behind the long table and crossing the room alarmingly fast.

Harry scrambled backwards and hid between the armchair and the wall.

But the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man ignored him. He kneeled in front of Moony and shook him by the shoulder.

"Lupin! What's the matter with you?"

Moony did not answer the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, so the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man pried the block out of Moony's hand.

"Mouse? Lupin, what the bloody hell does it mean? Peter? Mouse? What does it mean?"

Moony took his hands away from his face at last. His face was streaked with tears, and his eyes seemed to stare right through the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man.

"Rat. Not a mouse. Rat."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man looked impatient. "And --?"

"Peter Pettigrew was a rat Animagus, Severus. And Harry couldn't have known that. Peter had never been to Godric's Hollow... it's shocking Harry recognized him at all..."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man frowned a very awful frown.

"A rat Animagus, Lupin? A _rat Animagus_? Damn you -- idiots! Did it ever occur to anyone that this would be good information to have if one was trying to identify the Dark Lord's supporters?"

Moony looked up. "Are you saying...?"

"YES, I'm saying! I must have seen him a dozen times, but never saw him without his hood and mask."

They fell silent, and sat as still as statues.

"I could have stopped him," whispered the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. "I could have stopped it all."

"Sirius," whispered Moony. And then quite loudly, "Sirius!"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man made a sour face. "I suppose Black told the truth after all."

"And no one listened!" Moony looked like he was going to begin crying again. "_I_ didn't listen. _I_ didn't believe him."

"Neither did..." The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man stopped and frowned again. "Neither did Dumbledore. But he would have known."

Moony's eyes narrowed. "What? Known what?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man sighed. "I assumed... I assumed that the Potters changed _to_ Black as their Secret Keeper. I walked in on a conversation once -- didn't see whom Dumbledore was speaking to -- and that was the gist of it. He thought they should change. Could have been talking to Potter. Could have been talking to Black. Either way, he would have known they planned to change."

Moony blinked, looking very pale again. "And he never said anything. He never said a word in Sirius' defense."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man's eyes darted in Harry's direction, and Harry tried to make himself very small against the wall.

"Well, he... He didn't want Black to be around, did he? Can't put the boy with the Muggles if he has a Godfather around."

"But he wouldn't...! He wouldn't let...!"

"Except he did," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man in a very severe way, with his lips pressed together into a very thin line. "That's exactly what he did."

Moony frowned, and for a few moments appeared to be thinking very hard.

"We're jumping to a fair number of conclusions, Severus. There could still be some explanation -- no, don't snort -- there could be some reason that we don't know right now."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man snorted again. "He wanted to keep control of his little weapon, Lupin. I don't suppose you knew this, but there was a prophesy about the boy and --"

"A what?"

"Prophesy. The only one to vanquish the Dark Lord, and so forth."

"Oh... bloody hell. A _prophesy_," said Moony, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling. "What happened to ignoring the bloody things?"

"Dumbledore thought he had it under control."

Moony thought this over and shook his head. "Then maybe he isn't as brilliant as he's given credit for. Are you saying he got the ball rolling on it?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man hesitated, then nodded without a word.

Moony sighed heavily. "You could be right, I suppose. I shudder at the thought of going up against Albus. How can we possibly keep Harry from him?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man didn't answer.

"I need to get Sirius out of Azkaban. I don't care what it takes."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man pushed himself suddenly to his feet. "Give me time to think, Lupin. I need some bloody damn _time_."

With that swear, the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man stalked out of the room, leaving Moony staring after him with a furrowed brow.

Suddenly Moony seemed to remember Harry.

"Oh no. Harrykins... I am _so_ sorry..."

* * *

Harry opened his eyes slowly. He had been having a very nice dream, in which he floated on a fluffy white cloud that looked a little like a bunny. It had been very soft and very warm. He didn't want the dream to end.

He wasn't in his cupboard. He wasn't sure where he was, but he knew it wasn't Aunt and Uncle's house at all.

He squinted at the walls and realized that they were not walls, but bookshelves reaching to the ceiling. And they were full of books.

This did not look like a bedroom, but there was a bed -- he was lying on it! It was like the cloud in his dream, so soft and warm.

Before he could climb out of the bed -- he wasn't allowed on beds -- one of the bookshelves jumped and moved, making a great big hole in the wall.

"Hullo, Harry."

Harry looked at Moony warily.

"You slept all morning, sleepyhead. Come, we'll have a nice bath and then you can have your lunch."

Harry heard the word '_bath_' and froze in terror. Moony picked him right up and carried him out of the Books-Everywhere-Room and down a dark and narrow hallway.

"There we are," Moony said, putting him down on a rug in front of a horrible bathtub with monster feet. The Tub-With-Big-Feet was already full of water, and more water came rushing out of a Spout-With-Teeth.

"All right, let's get you in."

Harry's limbs came back to life suddenly, and he scooted away from Moony as fast as he could. That water was hot! He could see it bubbling and frothing and giving off puffs of smoke!

Moony looked down at him sadly.

"Poor darling," he mumbled. Then he kneeled in front of Harry. "Harry? It's just a bath. The water's nice and warm. See?"

And he plunged his arm into the boiling water!

Harry looked from the Tub-With-Big-Feet to Moony, who was now drying his arm on a fluffy towel.

"Let's take your clothes off first."

Harry let him do it. It was no good trying to fight, anyhow. If Moony wanted to put him in the Tub-With-Big-Feet, it was no different than when Aunt gave him baths. Except her baths were never hot.

"We'll need to get you some clothes," Moony said with a frown. "These are going straight in the rubbish bin."

Harry wondered if Moony had a little boy who had grown out of some clothes, so Harry could have them. Or maybe the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man had a little boy.

"There," said Moony. "Now, up you go --"

He lifted Harry and plunked him into the bubbling water.

Harry screwed his eyes tightly shut.

"There," said Moony again. "Not so bad, right, Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes. No, it wasn't bad. The water wasn't hot after all. It wasn't cold, either. It was just right.

"Look what I have."

Harry looked. It was a yellow duck. His cousin Dudley had many of them, and they were kept in a pail next to the tub, for Dudley to play with when Dudley took his baths.

Moony squeezed it and it made a quacking sound. Then Moony put it down in the water, and the duck started paddling its feet like mad, bobbing its head as it swam circles around Harry.

"Look what else I have," said Moony, holding up a small bottle. When Harry squinted his eyes he saw that it was filled with something bright pink.

"Bubbles!" Moony said, pouring the pink stuff into the Tub-With-Big-Feet right where the Spout-With-Teeth made a splashing waterfall.

Great big shiny pink bubbles started filling the Tub-With-Big-Feet. Harry poked one with his finger, but it didn't pop.

"All right, now play for a few minutes."

Moony picked up Harry's clothes from the floor, and went to the door. He opened it half-way and stuck his head out.

"Severus? I don't suppose you have anything Harry could wear? A hundred cleaning charms couldn't help these rags."

There was no answer, but soon the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man appeared in the doorway.

"I don't. There hasn't been a child in this house since I was one myself."

Moony held up Harry's clothes in front of the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man's face, holding them between his thumb and forefinger the way Harry had seen Aunt holding a sock after one of Aunt Marge's dogs peed on it.

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man looked at the clothes with disgust.

"All right, I'll pick something up at the Muggle shops. I can give you a plain shirt meanwhile to put him in."

"Thank you. Do you think you could get some food as well? Porridge... milk... things like that?"

"I will."

"Thank you," Moony said again. Then he jerked his head toward the Tub-With-Big-Feet. "Poor thing was terrified to get in. Near as I can tell, he thought the water wasn't right. I don't even want to _think_..."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man scowled. "When this is over, I'm paying Petunia and her husband a visit."

Moony smiled a smile that wasn't happy. "Let me know when, so I can offer you an alibi."

"Agreed," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. And he turned on his heel and stalked away.

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man was very good at stalking, Harry noticed.

But he was back just moments later, holding a white shirt, which he offered to Moony.

"I'm leaving now, so if there's anything else you need...?"

"No, just hurry back. I don't want to be alone with Harry for very long."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man looked grim. "Why? Do you suppose together we could fend off Aurors and the great Albus Dumbledore?" He smirked. "Short of that, no one's getting into this house, Lupin, so you needn't worry yourself. I'll be back in an hour."

He turned to go, then stopped. "If anything does happen... I have a portkey. It's in my bedroom, in the cabinet. A ship in a bottle. Activates when you pop the cork."

"Where to?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man shook his head. "Rather not say, Lupin."

"Sorry, I should have thought... I understand."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man left, and Moony turned his attention back to Harry.

Harry pushed the yellow duck around in the water, because that seemed to make Moony happy.

"Let's wash your hair," Moony said after a few minutes. "Oh boy, you could really use a haircut, darling."

Harry shuddered. The last time Aunt had given him a haircut, she pulled out more hair than she cut off, and she had sliced his ear with the sharp scissors.

Moony tipped some green stuff from a bottle into the palm of his hand. "Close your eyes, Harry."

Harry didn't need to be told to do that. Having his hair washed was one of the worst things about taking a bath.

Incredibly, the soap never got into Harry's eyes, despite Moony soaping up Harry's head not once but many times (swearing under his breath in between times).

"All done," Moony announced after washing off the soap for the last time. "Ready to come out?"

He didn't wait for Harry to answer, but picked him up and swung him out of the Tub-With-Big-Feet and put him down on the rug. In a moment Harry was wrapped in a towel and Moony was rubbing his hair with another one.

"You'll have to wear this for now," Moony said, holding up the white shirt the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man had brought. "Just for a while."

Harry looked at it doubtfully. It was even larger than Dudley's clothes. It would fall right off him!

But it fit him after all. One moment it was hanging off him in great big folds, then Moony made him turn around and said a funny word, and the next moment the shirt was only slightly too long. It reached to Harry knees, which was good, because Moony didn't put any pants on him.

"Let's go see what there is for lunch, shall we?"

Harry followed Moony out of the bathroom and down the shadowy hallway. They passed several rooms.

It was an old house, Harry decided. He knew Aunt and Uncle wouldn't like it at all. It was smelly, and not very tidy.

He wondered if he was going to have to clean. Most likely he would.

The kitchen was small. There was a kettle singing loudly on the stove, and Moony quickly turned off the burner.

"Sit down, Harry," Moony said, pointing to the round table surrounded by tall, stiff-backed chairs. "Do you need a lift?"

Harry climbed onto one of the chairs. No, he didn't need a lift. He'd rather not be lifted by Moony or anyone else. You never knew when they might let go very suddenly.

"Good boy," Moony said approvingly.

Harry looked around for the dog, but didn't see one. He hoped it wasn't mean, like Aunt Marge's Ripper.

"Let me see," Moony said, opening a cupboard. "Well, Severus sure doesn't stock the kitchen well, does he? Harry, would you rather a tomato sandwich or breadsticks with jam?"

Harry tried to make himself very small in the big chair. He knew if he answered, he would just be told that those things were not for freaks like him.

Moony took his head out of the cupboard and frowned. "Harry? All right, I'll make sandwiches for both of us."

He had them made in a minute, and put a plate down in front of Harry.

"Go on," Moony said when Harry didn't move. "Take one." And he took one himself.

Harry still didn't move. That was a trick he knew very well, and ended with his hand being slapped, which hurt a lot if Aunt was holding a spoon.

"Oh! Stupid of me," Moony exclaimed, startling Harry. "Here, I'll cut it up into smaller pieces for you."

Harry eyed the knife warily, but Moony only cut a sandwich into wee pieces.

With the plate in front of him, the tomato oozing from between pieces of soft bread, Harry licked his lips and dared to look up at Moony.

"Go on, Harry," Moony said. "You need to eat, and we don't have anything else until Severus returns. I'll make you porridge then."

Harry slowly reached toward the plate.

He snatched his hand back at the last moment and looked quickly at Moony again.

Moony hadn't moved, and was eating his own sandwich calmly. He didn't look like he was going to slap.

He got a piece in his hand finally, and having got that far he knew he needed to eat it quickly.

"Oh dear," said Moony very quietly.

* * *

Harry was sitting on the rug in the middle of the room.

Whenever Moony looked at him, he would dutifully move a block or two, because that was what Moony wanted him to do.

The door opened suddenly, making Moony jump up from his seat in the armchair.

It was the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. He shut the door behind himself and handed Moony a number of sacks. Harry knew one was from the grocers because it looked like the ones Aunt used when she went to the shops.

"No disturbances?" the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man asked, glancing briefly at Harry.

"No, nothing."

"Near as I can tell they don't yet realize he's gone."

"But that won't stay so."

"No."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man took off his coat and sat down in the chair where Moony had sat. He leaned his head back. He looked tired.

Moony had opened one of the sacks and now he took out clothing; a shirt, underthings still in plastic wrap, trousers, very small trainers, and a jumper.

"These will do very well," Moony said. "Look, Harry, your new clothes have arrived."

And then he swooped down on Harry and started dressing him before Harry could do more than squeak in surprise.

"There!" said Moony, looking him over. "Much better."

Harry felt that there had been some kind of mistake. These clothes were new from a shop. Moony must have got mixed up, and now the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man would be very angry to see what had become of the clothes he had bought.

He sneaked a look at the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, but the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man was still sitting in the armchair and didn't look more severe than usual.

"How about we go to the kitchen," Moony said to the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. "I promised Harry I would make him porridge, and you and I need to talk, Severus." He looked down at Harry again. "What do you think, moppet? Porridge and then a nap?"

Harry looked at him blankly. He did not know what Moony wanted from him. He moved a few blocks to the pile, but Moony frowned, so that must not have been the right thing.

Moony sighed heavily. "It's all right, Harry. Just give me your hand."

Harry scooted back instead, though he couldn't scoot very far because the couch was in the way.

Moony withdrew his hand.

"I don't know what to do with him, Severus. This is terrible. Those bloody awful people...!"

"Just pick him up, Lupin," the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man said. "It's obvious he doesn't understand."

Moony did pick Harry up, and Harry didn't fight because fighting didn't ever help.

They were in the kitchen again, and Moony plunked him down on one of the chairs. The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man sat down in another.

"Tea, Severus?"

"Make it strong. None of your usual nonsense."

Moony went about preparing tea and porridge. Both smelled quite good.

With a bowl in front of Harry and cups of tea in front of Moony and the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, they sat around the table in silence.

"Eat, Harry."

Harry picked up a spoon -- he wasn't slapped -- and tried the porridge. It was very good, with milk pooled on top and sugar sprinkled around the edges.

He put the spoon down again.

"Eat it all, Harry, please. The whole bowl."

Harry looked at Moony through his fringe to see if he was serious, but he seemed to be.

"Have you thought at all about what we're going to do?"

"I have hardly thought about anything _but_," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man crossly.

"And...?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man sniffed very severely. "And aside from that we're looking at at least one charge of kidnapping, I'm certain of nothing."

"Well, that's not very helpful."

"I don't see you overflowing with viable ideas."

Moony sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm terrified for Harry, especially if what you say about Albus is even half true."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man frowned and took a long drink of his tea.

"Severus, if we can't trust Albus, we need a way to keep him from getting Harry until Sirius is out of Azkaban --"

"What does he have to do with it?" asked the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, banging his cup down on the table.

Moony stared at him. "Why, I -- I mean, Sirius is his Godfather. He's the only one who can get custody of him over Albus."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man glared at him. He drained the rest of his tea and stood up.

"You don't know what shape Black is in. It's been -- what? -- two, two and a half years that he's been in with the Dementors. In all likelihood --"

"We just don't know, do we?" exploded Moony, losing his soft voice entirely. "And I don't know what else we can do! No one's going to give the child to _me_, in any case, and _you_ can't possibly make a claim to him."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man looked startled, then frowned at Moony. "Even if I could make a claim, Lupin, I couldn't take him."

Moony returned the frown. "Lily was your friend. You wouldn't raise her orphaned child if you were given the opportunity?"

"I said I _couldn't_, Lupin!" The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man started pacing across the small kitchen. "You have no idea -- I have my work -- I have my -- if the Dark Lord ever --"

"All right, I'm sorry. That was out of line. Anyway, they would just as soon give him to you as to me." Moony set his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands. "What _can_ we do? Is there anyone we can trust right now?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man took several halting breaths, but stopped pacing. His lips thinned and deep lines appeared on his forehead.

"Severus?"

"I need to check on a few things. Will you be all right here alone?"

"Yes. Will you be long?"

"I don't know."

With those words, the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man turned and headed deliberately for the door.

He paused as he passed Harry, his very dark eyes fixed on Harry's face.

"He has Lily's eyes."

"Yes," said Moony. "They seem to be the only thing he inherited from her."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man nodded and strode out of the room.

A moment later a door opened and banged shut.


	3. Chapter 3

"Black."

The head of matted hair rose off the skeletal arms, and two dimly glinting eyes looked at him.

"Snape. Fancy seeing you after all these years."

"Get up, Black."

"Whatever for?"

"If you would prefer to rot here for the rest of your life --"

The man laughed haltingly. "Why? Have you come to rescue me? Are you my knight in shining armor?" His laugh turned to a wracking cough. "Say whatever you came to say, Snape."

"All right," Severus said, leveling his voice like a weapon. "Your godson has been abused to within an inch of his life by his bitch of an aunt and her husband. Albus Dumbledore couldn't care less. And Lupin is planning to break you out, which he will without a doubt bungle and end up on the wrong end of the executioner's ax."

Black was on his feet so fast that Severus almost went for his wand.

"If you've come here to goad me with some pack of lies...!"

"No lies," Severus said cooly. "Everything I just told you is the truth. I'm here to see if you've still got your wits about you."

"I haven't gone mad, if that's what you're on about," Black said, the scowl on his gaunt face truly awful. "But what is it to you?"

Severus smiled mirthlessly. "I've come to rescue you."

* * *

And now Severus stood in the front room of his childhood home, staring down at the child fast asleep on a makeshift bed.

The child with Lily's eyes.

The child Severus had sworn to protect.

He would claim him; would go to Dumbledore right now and tell him everything and then...

Lose his position at Hogwarts; and who else but Dumbledore would employ him.

Lost his potential as a spy.

Lose Dumbledore's -- albeit now dubious -- protection.

And when all was said and done, perhaps lose the child, as well, for who would give The-Boy-Who-Lived to a Death Eater, without Albus Dumbledore's backing?

No, it was an impossible line of thinking.

He was twenty-three, with no living family, no assets save for a derelict Muggle dwelling, no earning potential...

He let his eyes wander off the boy's face.

Lupin was on the couch, sleeping the dead sleep of one dosed with too many calming potions in quick succession, draped over the skeletal body of the escaped convict, Sirius Black. Even in sleep, Black's hand was holding tight the spare wand Severus had offered him.

Black did look a mess, but he was sane still... Severus didn't know how.

Lupin was right, Black did have a direct claim on the boy. He'd need Dumbledore's backing, of course, but --

Severus shook his head.

He couldn't do it.

How was he even thinking it -- a werewolf and a mangy ex-convict? That was the best he could do for Lily's child?

The boy moaned in his sleep.

Without thinking, Severus reached down and brushed stray hair off his forehead, then tucked the blanket more securely around the skinny body.

_This_ child was going to bring about the Dark Lord's downfall? _This_ starved, scarred, scared child?

He'd need all the help Severus could give him.

With a final tug at the blanket, he straightened and looked away... only to have his eyes meet another pair.

Black raised himself on an elbow, but the weight of Lupin proved too much and he fell back, his hair fanning around his head like a warped halo. He looked at Severus and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to Hogwarts to settle things with Dumbledore. I'll send word... either way. Tell Lupin he knows what to do if you need to make a break for it." He hesitated, just for a moment. "Stay as long as you need. Lock up when you leave."

'_Take care of my child,_' he added silently.

He turned on his heel.

"Snape, wait."

He stopped, but didn't turn around.

"Thanks."

He gave no indication of having heard.

The air outside was frigid despite the season, and he gulped lungfulls of it until he no longer felt like he was suffocating.

He walked to the edge of the wards, stopping to look across the muddy river meandering past.

He gathered his thoughts about him; what he would say to the old man.

How the old man would agree a werewolf and a mangy ex-convict were better guardians for The-Boy-Who-Lived than Severus Snape, Death Eater.

How the old man would be relieved not to lose his spy.

How Severus would threaten to reveal all if the old man was not compliant; tarnish the golden image of The-Boy-Who-Lived and his hero parents who didn't.

How the old man would start his scheming once more, but Severus would be ever-wary, ever-watchful.

How in less than ten years the boy with Lily's eyes would walk through Hogwarts' doors.

How it would all be worth it, someday.

He shut his eyes, picturing his destination.

* * *

He never saw the tiny figure at the window, peering through the grimy glass, green eyes squinting to make out the figure in black as it vanished very suddenly into thin air.


	4. Crapilogue

_**Eight Years Later**_

* * *

"Dad," said the boy reproachfully, "we're in _public_."

"Oh, sorry," said the man, reaching out for a last rumple of the boy's messy hair. "I do forget myself sometimes."

The boy groaned as a pair of girls turned back for another look and giggled behind their hands. "Wonderful."

"Looks like you have a couple of fans, Harrykins."

"Do _not_ call me that!" exclaimed the boy, horrified. "Look, don't you think it's bad enough Dad's teaching and you're in Hogsmeade... can't I ride the train by myself like a normal First Year?"

The man sighed. "'Fraid not, Harry."

"It's not fair," said the boy, pursing his lips.

"Look, there's Ron and Fred and George."

"Where?" The boy pushed his glasses up and looked around, quickly spotting his friends. Mrs. Weasley had brought Ginny, too.

"Go say hello, and then you and Ron can find a compartment. I'll be along."

"You're not going to _sit_ with us?" asked the boy, aghast.

"I'll try to find an empty compartment in the same car."

Only slightly mollified, the boy set off toward his friends, leaving the man to see to his trunk.

* * *

"Good-bye, Harry, and I hope you have a lovely start of the year."

The boy glanced around quickly before giving the man a half-hug. "Bye, Dad."

"Be good. Mind your teachers."

"I will. Really."

"Remember what I told you about the Headmaster."

Harry frowned, but nodded.

"Remember, also, that you have powerful allies at the school. Should you ever need help --"

"I'll go to Dad, of course," Harry said, tossing his head. "Or that teacher you told me about."

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Yes, him. Oh, look, there's Ron -- I have to go!"

The man kept silent watch until the boats and carriages had all gone, ferrying their precious cargo safely to the castle.

With a final heavy sigh, he started down to road to Hogsmeade, and home.

* * *

"Percy, who is that teacher sitting next to my D-- I mean, next to Professor Black?"

Percy looked up from his book. "Hmm? Oh, him. That's Professor Severus Snape. He teaches Potions."

"Severus..." Harry repeated under his breath. "Why does that sound familiar?"

Professor Snape looked up suddenly, his eyes somehow finding Harry's across the crowded and noise-filled room.

"Ow..." He rubbed his forehead.

"You all right, mate?"

"Yeah, Ron, I'm fine."

When he looked up again, Professor Snape had looked away, speaking now with a pale-faced woman wearing a high head-dress adorned with jewels that shone and sparkled in the candlelight.

Harry turned back to his plate heaped with delicious food, speared a piece of sausage on his fork, and tried to tune in to the cheerful chatter around him.

His last thought about the Potions professor was that he looked as though his name fit him well.

* * *

x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x **NOTES **x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x

I hope you enjoyed this story, including the Crapilogue (because every story should have one. I know it doesn't hold a candle to HP:DH, but alas, the bar was set too high.).

Chapters 3 and 4 will be eventually rewritten to be as much from Harry's point of view as they can be. I could not pull it together in my original attempt, but I recognize that the last two chapters are weak and the changing POV is partly to blame (but not completely... and the crapilogue is _supposed _to be crappy).

There may be a sequel, but only after I complete my other stories. If there is a sequel, it will be a Severitus or Sevitus (depending on which works).


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